Scars
by Limegreen16
Summary: "And suddenly, it's clear to you that you've never loved anyone as long and as much as you love this woman." Little Darvey moments from Harvey's POV throughout Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

At the back of your mind, you always thought it would be you and Donna in the end. You just thought you had all the time in the world.

The way she smiles at you and fixes your tie, the way she reads you and knows just what to do, the way she moves across the room and commands attention—these are things you can't live without. You need her charm, wit and laughter. You need her. And she knows that you do because you've never been shy about admitting it.

But over the past year, you've realized how frighteningly little she needed you. She could leave you with her head held high and you would always want her back, utterly destroyed without her in your life and ready to forgive whatever she did. And when she did come back, it was as if she was determined to back away from the line you've both skirted around for years. No more lingering smiles and looks. No more late nights with her legs propped up on your table, wine glass in her hand. You know that you have no right to feel hurt, but it doesn't sting any less when you realize she's given up on you.

She carried the load for the both of you for more than a decade. And now it's your turn.


	2. Chapter 2

Having successfully won a difficult case, you've offered to buy a celebratory dinner with Donna and are walking out of the building together.

"Donna!"

Someone is coming towards them, waving. You squint and size him up. He's about your height, well-built with broad shoulders, dark blonde hair and a sharp jaw. You avert your eyes when Donna walks up to kiss him. This must be Mitchell.

"Mitchell! What are you doing here?" You hope to detect displeasure in her tone, but much to your dismay, she sounds sincerely happy.

"You've been working so hard lately, I thought we could just have some dinner." Mitchell looks at Harvey, smiling, and extends his hand for a shake. "You must be Harvey. Nice to finally meet you."

"Mitchell's the one I told you about," Donna adds.

You shake his hand and exchange formalities, and Mitchell invites you along for dinner. There's no sarcasm or jealousy in his tone; annoyingly, he seems completely at ease with you. Over the years, you've secretly found pleasure in making Donna's boyfriends squirm. She's chided you for intimidating them, but you protested that if they were intimidated then it simply meant they were pussies. But Mitchell clearly doesn't see you as a threat.

(Meanwhile, you're trying hard not to glare at the man for hijacking your dinner with Donna.)

You glance at the way Donna has her arm around his, her face flushed beautifully from the cold air, her smile as wide as it used to be with you. She and Mitchell are wrapped up in their own quiet conversation, teasing and laughing. You've never been one to back down from a challenge (even a perceived one), but there's an ache in your gut telling you that you wouldn't survive dinner with them.

"I'll pass. Don't want to ruin your date."

"You sure?" he asks.

"Yeah, you guys have fun. I'll see you tomorrow."

You nod goodbye and walk off, deciding you need the time to clear your head. It isn't the first time you've met one of her boyfriends, but you've never been this unnerved. She always seemed more reserved with her affection for them when you were around, but this time, there was no hesitation, no self-consciousness at all.

There's no doubt that she has moved on. There's no doubt that you haven't.

(The next day, you hear Louis complimenting Donna for her glow. She just smiles.)


	3. Chapter 3

**This is a bit longer now. Set sometime in Season 5. :)**

Dr. Agard smiles at you. "Okay, let's talk about Donna. Tell me about her."

"She's been my secretary for twelve years," you start. It sounds too stiff and formal; Donna isn't just your secretary and everyone knows it. "We're a team. When I left the DA's office, I asked her to come work with me at Pearson Hardman."

Dr. Agard's eyes pierce through you, expecting more than the bare minimum you just gave her. "Harvey, the only reason you're here is because Donna left you to work for someone else, so "she's my secretary" is very much an understatement."

"Fine."

So you tell her about the time Donna was fired for destroying documents to protect you and how you got her back. You tell her a little about that time with Stephen, about Liberty Rail and all you did to keep her out of prison. And, more painfully, you tell her about that night in her apartment and the next day when Donna announced she was leaving you.

"When Mike asked you how risking her was different from risking you, what did you say?" Dr. Agard asks.

"That she's different. I'd do anything for Donna," you say, and it's nothing you haven't said before.

She pauses, tilting her head. "Would you consider Mike one of your best friends?"

"Yeah. He's like a brother to me."

"And Donna—did you also consider her as one of your best friends?"

"Of course."

"So if you see them both as your best friends, what's so different about Donna? Why is risking Mike any different from risking her?"

You pause, unsure of the answer. Nobody has ever dared to ask you that point-blank. "We've, uh…we've had twelve years."

"And? You've known Jessica for longer. It's not about the duration of the relationship, Harvey."

"Look, Donna knows everything about me. She knows me more than anyone else, and I know her better than anyone else. I trust her with my life. Like I said, we're a team. We were, anyway, and…it just doesn't feel right without her."

(What you really want to say is that nothing makes sense without her.)

"Sounds like a marriage, minus the sex." She smiles, but your uneasy expression seems to give you away. "Or is there sex?"

"Absolutely not."

"But there was."

"Just once, right before we started working for Pearson Hardman," you admit. You allow yourself to replay the memory in your head, a luxury you've banned since she agreed to work for you all those years ago. Her red hair like a curtain over your head, the sweet whipped cream on her skin, your lips trailing her neck. The way the two of you moved so effortlessly in sync with one another—you've never found that connection with anyone else but her. "But she has a rule about getting involved with the men she works with, so we stopped it."

"How did you feel about that rule?"

"I respected it." Except when she dated Stephen, maybe.

"You don't like it," she realizes.

"I respected it," you repeat firmly. "I would rather have Donna working at my desk everyday than lose her because of romantic complications. That night in her apartment, when I told her I loved her, it wasn't my intention to pursue a relationship or make her think that I thought of her that way—"

"Even though you clearly do."

"That wasn't my intention. All I wanted was to comfort her. I didn't want her to think I was leaving that night because I didn't care about her; I left because I do love her and I don't want to lose her by risking what we had."

Dr. Agard is shaking her head. "Don't you see the irony now? Harvey, it's precisely your insistence on not risking your relationship that made her leave."

You're stunned. It makes sense, of course, even if you feel compelled to prove it wrong.

"Harvey, I'm not here to tell you what to do or how you feel. Maybe you're in love with Donna, maybe you're not. I also can't tell you if pursuing a romantic relationship, or even talking about your feelings with her, is the right thing. But here's what I can tell you—you and Donna seem more in tune with one another than most couples. You're clearly attracted by her and would do anything to protect her. And, as you said, you can't be you without her. You love her in a way that's different from anyone else, which is why trying to treat her like she's just a friend can never work for the two of you."


	4. Chapter 4

You and Donna attend a benefit to scout new clients, and you try not to notice that the cut of her dress suits her perfectly or that the deep green shade brings out the color of her eyes. In the car, her perfume makes your chest tighten and, _Jesus,_ you want nothing more than to cross the ten inches that separate you from her. But you know she deserves more than your impulses, so you clear your throat and discuss the agenda for the night. After all, she's with Mitchell.

The night goes smoothly and you manage to secure meetings with three prospective clients. The combination of your confidence and reputation, and her warmth and wit, makes it easy. By the end of the night, you're both buzzing with alcohol and pleasure in a job well done, so what the hell, you invite her for one dance. You used to dance with her all the time for these events, and you figure it's still as harmless as ever (was it ever, though?).

"Harvey," she says. She makes your name sound like a warning. But she accepts anyway.

You place your hand at the small of your back; you feel her stiffen slightly. But after some hesitation, she rests her chin on your shoulder. Protocol dictates that you crack a joke to clarify that your intentions are harmless, but your head is clouded by thoughts you had long ago tried to push away and you're fighting the urge, once again, to kiss her. You're a lawyer and you stack up the hundreds of reasons you shouldn't do it, but everything falls apart when you remember she's in your arms.

"Tyler doesn't look too good," Donna murmurs, referring to a prospective client getting drunk across the room. As always, you think, Donna has impeccable timing. She looks at you knowingly and you concede.

"Five minutes and he'll be out," you agree, half-heartedly going along with this charade.

"I give him two."

Later that night, on the way home, you allow yourself to imagine that for a second there on the dance floor she wanted to kiss you too. Then the car is pulling into her street and she tilts her head towards you.

"Thanks for the ride, Harvey—"

Before you know it, you lean sideways and kiss her, gently and slowly. She tastes like sweet champagne burning against your lips. Though she's taken by surprise, rigid and reluctant at first, it isn't long before she's learning in and your hand buries itself in her hair to draw her closer. _It's Donna_ , you think. And suddenly it's clear to you that you've never loved anyone as long and as much as you love this woman.

Then her hands are on your shoulders and she's pushing you away. She's trying to read your eyes, but you only see the confusion, the fear and uncertainty in hers. This wasn't your intention at all.

"Donna…That night in your apartment, what I said—I meant it. And you know how I mean it. You know how I love you." This is the closest you've ever come to a confession of love. When she asked you that question months ago, you were in no place to answer it. You hadn't figured out just how much she meant to you, and even if you did, you certainly wouldn't have been brave enough to tell her.

"I do," she says softly. A flicker of sadness. "But it's too late, Harvey. I just can't."

And just like that, she steps out of the car without another word. Nothing has changed. But you feel like you've lost her all over again.

XXX

The next day in the office, she greets you like it's any other day, detailing your schedule and calls waiting. It flusters you. You avoid looking at her as you take your copy of the schedule and robotically respond to her queries. At the back of your mind, you know it's not her fault and you're being a jackass, but there's nothing you can think of to say to her.

She leaves earlier than usual and, when everyone's gone for the night, you throw your empty glass across the room.


	5. Chapter 5

"When did you start going to therapy?" Scottie asks, curious.

You frown. "A couple of months ago."

She raises her eyebrows. "You mean when Donna left you?"

"How did you—"

"Nevermind how I know." She gives you a pained smile and looks out your office. You follow her line of sight to Donna, who is, thankfully, walking away to speak to Mike instead of at her desk listening to this conversation. Even now, you can't help but appreciate how gorgeous she looks. "You and I could never work, Harvey. Not then, not now."

"Why not?"

"Because you have her."

"Donna? We've been over this, Scottie. Nothing's going on between us." You hope that Scottie doesn't detect the remorse in your words, though you're aware of your defensive tone.

"Maybe not. But you need her in a way that you don't need anyone else, and no one can come in between that," she says pointedly, as if daring you to deny it. "It's hard to compete, Harvey. It took me a while to figure it out, but I'm not sure you have."

(Isn't it funny how people keep telling you how much Donna means to you?)

You remember Jessica's words right after Donna left you. _Scottie leaving didn't throw you off your game this much._ Because you meant it when you told Scottie that you wanted her in your life. But you need Donna, and she's the one thing you can't give up.

When it comes to it, you'll always choose her.

So, no, you don't deny that Scottie is right. You look at Scottie apologetically, and she just smiles as she walks away. Your head feels clearer than it has been in awhile.

A few seconds later, Donna pops into your office, eyebrows raised.

"That looked intense. What was that about?"

 _You._ "Just saying goodbye," you say casually, putting your jacket on and glancing at your watch. "I'm starving. Dinner?"

"You buying?"

"Don't I always?"

She grins. "Give me five minutes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys! I just want to take this time to explain why I keep these chapters so short, though I know I should've done this earlier. Anyway, it's because I feel that it's in small, subtle moments that we really see how Harvey and Donna feel about each other. They're not the type for grand gestures; it's in the way they look and smile at each other, and the words they don't say. It's in the little moments that most people would miss.**

Gasping for air, you sit up in bed and look around your bedroom. You're covered in cold sweat and your chest is heaving—but there's no Donna, no Tanner. It was all a bad dream.

Suddenly, flashes of it come back to you in pieces.

 _Angry, hurt and a little bit drunk, you show up yet again at her door in the middle of the night. She opens the door in a flimsy silk robe. You try to pull your eyes away from her collarbone, momentarily forgetting what it is you came to say._

 _The two of you argue about her salary and she accuses you of being jealous. You yell at her about Louis. But there is a pause—her indignant eyes waver a little._

 _You simultaneously step forward and pull her close, the two of you melting into a furious, desperate kiss. Your chest burns with desire. She pulls you in and you shut the door behind you._

 _And in the morning when you wake, you find her against your chest, her hair sprawled beautifully around you. It doesn't feel as strange as you thought it would be. All the anger and bitterness have drained away, leaving you only with a sensation that everything is right in the world._

 _At least for awhile, it is._

You stop before you'll have to imagine seeing Donna in bed with another man; the fact that it was Tanner only made it worse. To be honest, it isn't your first dream featuring Donna (though you will never say it out loud), but it has never felt so visceral and real.

Later at the office, you find yourself watching Donna as she moves around distributing files to associates. She floats effortlessly, her smile bright and teasing. You think about the way you kissed her neck in your dream, trailing butterfly kisses down to her shoulders as her nails dug into your back. She had pulled you in with your tie before deftly tugging down your jacket and tossing it away. You felt her smile against your lips, and you kissed her deeply.

"Mr. Specter?"

Blinking, you turn your attention back to Gretchen. "What?"

Gretchen looks amused, glancing at Donna, while you clear your throat. "I was just talking about your schedule for today. But I'm guessing you'll need to hear it again."

"Uh, yeah, sorry."

"I can come back if you're too distracted."

You frown at Gretchen and she hides a smirk as she runs down your calendar.

When Gretchen leaves, you allow yourself to entertain the idea of walking up to Donna one day and kissing her, the way you dreamed the night before, the way you did twelve years ago. What would she say? Would she smile and kiss you back? It's a ridiculous notion, you think, and you would laugh at yourself if your chest didn't ache so much.


	7. Chapter 7

Donna shows up late one morning, and you're ready to berate her lightly for it when you see her face. Her eyes are red-rimmed and watery, and her nose is pink—it's enough to alarm you you into shock. In the thirteen years you've worked together, you can count on one hand the times that Donna has had to call in sick.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Harvey." Her voice is thick and nasal as she busies herself with your calendar. There's a box of tissues on her right. "Didn't hear my alarm go off this morning."

"Donna, you're sick. Go home," you say gently.

"I'm fine. Besides, there's just so much to do with Mike's trial coming up in three days and—"

She stops abruptly when you raise a hand to her forehead. Her skin burns under your cool palm, and you frown. Seeing her this way, sick and vulnerable, tears at you inside.

"I'm not asking, Donna," you reply firmly. "I'm your boss and I'm telling you to go home now."

Looking up at you, she smiles wanly. "Really, the boss card?"

"Hey, I don't want to catch whatever it is you have." You take your phone out and call Ray on speed dial. "Ray will be here in five minutes."

She hesitates. "At least let me fix your calendar for the day."

You roll your eyes, relenting, because Donna is the one person you can't win against in an argument. "Half an hour," you concede. "You better be gone when I get back from this meeting."

XXX

That night, you leave work early and stop by Donna's apartment with some ammunition. You realize that you've been in Donna's apartment more times in the last few months than in the past decade combined. She answers the door groggily and looks confused to see you. Wordlessly, you walk in and put the paper bags down on the dining table.

"What's all this?" she asks, straightening her posture.

"You look like shit." You chuckle. "I got you some chicken soup, some orange juice and medicine, just in case you didn't have any. What's your temperature right now?"

"I haven't taken my temperature. I was asleep the whole time."

You take the thermometer you brought and hand it to her, before striding into her kitchen and emerging with a bowl, a spoon and a glass of water. "Everything's in the exact same place," you reply, anticipating the question in her expression. You're referring, of course, to the god-awful dinner party, when Donna frantically called you for help to prepare the food.

After unpacking the soup and juice, you take the thermometer from her, read the figure and shake your head. She takes the bowl of soup from you with a look of wonder in her eyes. "Drink up."

When she finishes, you hand her some medicine and water, then lean against her counter, watching silently as she finishes the glass. "Don't you even think of showing up to work tomorrow."

"I'll be fine tomorrow," she insists, but your adamant glare stops you. She must really feel awful if she's letting you win this. "Thank you, Harvey. You really didn't have to do all this."

"Well, I need my secretary back as soon as possible," you reply, a bit defensively, an automatic reaction you haven't weeded out. When she flinches, you stupidly realize that it wasn't the right thing to say. "I just mean, you know…you're always taking care of me, so I figured I'd return the favor for once."

She smiles and looks at you the way she did that night you told her you loved her. But you tell yourself you're imagining it; she's sick and she has a boyfriend, after all. For a brief second, it angers you that Mitchell didn't come to make sure she was alright. Then again, you're glad to be alone with her.

"You should get some rest," you prod. "I'll do the dishes."

She raises an eyebrow. "Harvey Specter, are you going all domestic on me?"

"One-time offer only." Grinning, you take your jacket off, roll up your sleeves and gather the dishes. "Get your ass in bed, Paulsen."

Begrudgingly, she shuffles to the bedroom without further protest. When you finish tidying up, you go check on her and see that she's fast asleep, knocked out by the strong medicines you bought for her. You linger by her side for a few seconds and softly sweep a strand of hair away from her face. Though you're pretty sure you crossed some lines tonight, and maybe this is a bit much for an employee-best friend who already has a boyfriend of her own, you've also realized that you care too much about Donna to give a shit about lines anymore. And that, to be honest, the two of you have been blurring the lines since the day you met.

Suddenly, you think, _it's been thirteen years._ How long will the two of you play at this?

Quietly, you slip out of her apartment and shut the door, not knowing that the exact moment you do, Donna's eyes flicker open. She felt everything, of course, but she knows you too well to speak of tonight to anyone or even you.

After all, you're not the only one still scarred by the previous year.


End file.
